


It's a Supernaturally Wonderful Life

by Writer_Geekgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - It's a Wonderful Life Fusion, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas, Christmas Eve, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Geekgirl/pseuds/Writer_Geekgirl
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Castiel, Dean, and Sam Winchester are on a hunt. When Dean starts to wonder if people's lives would have been better without him, an angel named Clarence comes to visit Dean to show him how he changed the world for the better.The story is inspired by Frank Capra'sIt's a Wonderful Life.





	It's a Supernaturally Wonderful Life

The snow swirled lazily around them as they tracked the Wendigo and his victim into the mountainous back country of Idaho on Christmas Eve. Dean's and Sam's teeth were chattering, while Castiel remained unphased by the bitter cold. When they passed an old line cabin, Castiel tried to persuade the Winchesters to stay there while he continued to track the Wendigo. Sam seriously considered it, but Dean refused. Sam decided to remain with Dean.

Castiel muttered unhappily in Enochian at them as he walked in front of them, breaking apart the snowdrifts to make it easier for them to pass. Dean didn't know much spoken Enochian, but he was fairly sure Castiel was calling him everything from goat brain to monkey poop. 

When they finally found the lair of the Wendigo, the trio entered an old mine carefully. Each fanned out down a different tunnel, promising to call for help the moment they saw the creature. Castiel called out quietly to the others when he found the still-warm body of the hiker that they'd been searching for. 

As Castiel turned to face Dean and Sam, the Wendigo charged him, knocking Castiel aside. It raised up its arm to slash Castiel. 

Dean shouted, "Get away from him, you son of a bitch." He charged it, hitting it in the chest. The Wendigo and Dean fell backwards crashing into a beam holding up the ceiling. Pieces of debris started to fall from the roof. 

Castiel staggered to his feet, as Sam readied the flamethrower. Sam cursed as he was unable to get a clear shot. Dean was trying to push the Wendigo away from him; however, it was a losing battle. Right as the Wendigo was about to slash Dean's throat, Castiel was able to knock it away from him. Castiel jumped on Dean's body to protect him, as Sam turned the flamethrower onto the Wendigo, roasting him to death. The Wendigo's screams stopped after a few seconds.

Dean mumbled, "Thanks, guys." Blood flowed freely from a wound on his arm and shoulder.

Castiel growled, "What the hell were you thinking, Dean?"

"Um, warning my best friend that a Wendigo was about to eat him?"

"There was nothing he could have done to me that would have caused me serious harm, Dean. Nothing. You, on the other hand, he could quite have easily killed."

Dean protested, "But, look, he didn't. I'm still alive."

Sam added, "I'm with Cas on this one. Cas could have been a diversion, while we killed it."

Castiel sighed and placed his hand on Dean's arm, healing it. After discussing it briefly, the trio decided to return to the line cabin. It had looked in decent shape, and the mine stank of rotting and roasting flesh. Castiel wordlessly led them back to the cabin. He built a fire, while the Winchesters shrugged out of their cold and damp clothes. They found blankets to wrap themselves with. Castiel searched the cabin and found a couple of cans of beans and started heating them for the boys. He ignored both of them as he set about his tasks.

Dean said, "Cas, you going to give us the cold shoulder treatment, all night?"

Castiel turned and handed Dean a can of beans and a fork, expressionless. He then faced Sam. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile at Sam, as he said, "It's not much of a Christmas Eve feast. But, it's warm."

Sam smiled at him appreciatively, "Thanks, Cas."

Dean whined, "Come on, Cas. We both know, I was just acting on instinct. If it had been Sammy instead of you, charging it like that would have been the right thing to do."

Castiel raised an eyebrow, "I am not Sam."

"I know you aren't Sam, Sam I am. Would you could you with a fox? Would you could you in a box?" Dean quipped.

Castiel looked at Sam, "What the hell is he talking about?"

Sam said with his mouth full of beans, "Dr. Seuss. Green Eggs and Ham."

Castiel stood straighter, glaring Dean down. The atmosphere between them was charged. Dean gulped; Castiel reminded him of the Castiel that told him he had raised him from hell and could send him back in Bobby's kitchen so many years ago. Castiel growled, "This is not a joke, Dean. You throw yourself recklessly in harm's way for the sake of others, even when they don't need it. What will Sam and I do when you do that once too many times?"

"Saving people, hunting things is kind of my gig," Dean responded.

Castiel responded tersely, "Not at the cost of your own life."

Sam interrupted, "Guys, it's Christmas Eve. I mean, it's not much of a Christmas Eve, but we've had worse. Can we just settle down for a bit?"

Castiel wordlessly left the line cabin and stalked out into the snow. Dean sighed. Sam looked at Dean and said, "He's not wrong, you know. You do needlessly throw yourself into the middle of things without any concern of your own safety."

"If I wait to think about it, Sam, the person I'm there to save might be dead before I can move."

Sam shrugged, "You aren't getting any younger. And, I, for one, want you to get older. Cas is just worried about you." Sam finished up his beans and laid his clothes in front of the fire to dry. He laid down on one of the two cots in the room. He started snoring before Dean finished his can of beans.

Dean looked worriedly outside. Castiel was out there somewhere in the increasing strong snowfall. He rationally knew Castiel wouldn't freeze, but it still concerned him. Dean sighed. Somedays, he wondered if Sam and Castiel would be better off without him. Sam had his nice, new chief of hunters' gig. Castiel had found his calling taking care of Jack. Maybe, all he did was to drag them down. 

Dean hated Christmas. He always tried to do nice things for Sam, but it was never enough, or it didn't work out right. So many Christmases, he tried to make excuses for John not being there. Sam would just accept it, but Dean had always felt like a failure. The holiday season was typically depressing for him. This one was supposed to be different. Mary, Bobby, and Jack were back in the bunker decorating a tree with their hunter brigade. Garth had called them with this case and Sam had decided that they should take it, so the other hunters could enjoy their first Christmas since their apocalypse. Castiel had insisted on accompanying them to keep them company. Dean knew it was because Castiel was always stressed when Dean went hunting without him. He always seemed less stressed when Sam did it; could it be that he had more faith in Sam's skills than his own? He sighed again as he looked out at the swirling snow. 

Dean crawled into the other cot and fell asleep.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Dean opened up his eyes to find himself in the front seat of the Impala next to Castiel. Castiel was driving down a quiet country road. Castiel said in his low gravelly voice, "Hello, Dean."

"How'd we get in the car, Cas?" Dean looked around confused.

"I'm Clarence, not Castiel," the angel said.

Dean snorted, "And I’m Meg. How'd we get in the car?"

"You wondered if your family's life would be better if you weren't there. I'm here to show you."

"Cas, cut the crap. Are you bothering me in my dreams? Because, I got to say, dude, seriously creepy and stalkery."

Castiel pulled up and parked in front of a dilapidated house. "Christmas Day, 1996. Sam is 13 years old. He's in there."

The door of the house opened up and young Sam walked out with a bag of trash. His eyes landed on the Impala and widened for a moment. He walked over to the car. Although it was snowing, he didn't have a coat. Dean noticed he was limping slightly. Dean slid out of the car, looking at the tall gangly teenager. Thirteen was about when Sam hit his growth spurt and started to catch up with Dean. His hair was shaggy, and he was at the awkward, clumsy phase.

Sam smiled at Dean, "Awesome car. My dad had one just like it."

Dean looked at Castiel who had also gotten out. Dean responded, "My dad did too. Where's your dad?"

Sam frowned, "He's out of the picture. I haven't seen him in a few years."

"Don't you have a brother?" Dean asked.

Sam looked away, "He died when I was six months old in a house fire along with my mother. How'd you know I have a brother?"

Dean looked awkwardly at Castiel. Castiel replied smoothly, "I'm Clarence and this is Dean Campbell. He's from your mother's side of the family; distant cousin."

"Are you related to Christian Campbell?" Sam asked warily.

"Cousin," Dean answered.

"I went to stay with him for a while after Child Protective Service took me away from Dad. But, he was into really weird stuff and took off one night and never came back. His wife, Arlene, didn't want me around anymore. So, I went into the foster system."

Dean's brow furrowed, "What about Bobby?"

Sam looked at Dean confused, "Who?"

Dean glanced over Castiel at frowning. "Are you doing ok, Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "This family is nice enough. I've been here for six months. It's a lot better than the last place." His eyes lit up, "Can you take me with you?"

Dean started, "Sam…"

Castiel interrupted, "I'm sorry. We can't stay. We just wanted to check on you."

Sam's face fell. "Yeah, I understand. If you hear anything from my Dad, let me know. He wasn't much and left me alone all the time, but he's my family. I have to go now. Mrs. Morgan needs my help with the twins."

Dean watched bleakly as Sam's shoulders slumped as he turned to head back to the house. He called out after him, "Goodbye, Sam." Dean glared at Castiel. "Cas…"

"The name is Clarence."

Dean rolled his eyes, "That's not what happened. You know it and I know it. So, what's all this bull crap?"

"Just showing you the differences you made in people's life." Castiel snapped his fingers and they appeared standing next to the Impala in front of Singer's Salvage Yard.

A rottweiler stirred on the hood of an old beat-up blue tow truck, raising his head to look at Dean. A low growl sounded in his throat. Castiel walked up to the dog calmly and petted head, murmuring to it softly. The dog immediately relaxed.

Dean said questioningly, "Rumsfeld? You're still alive?" Dean smiled at the old dog. "Meg killed him when I was 26. He'd be ancient now."

"We're in 2000," Castiel replied.

A familiar voice came out from the dark, "Get off my land. Or you're going to have a close encounter with my shotgun."

Dean called out, "I'm Dean Winchester. John Winchester is my father."

"All the more reason for you to get the hell off of my land," the surly voice responded. "'Sides that, his son, Dean, is dead."

"Have you seen my father? My little brother is in foster care," Dean asked.

Bobby Singer, dressed in an old baseball hat and denim jacket, came out of the shadows of the porch. He walked heavily on a cane, but still had a shotgun nestled in the other arm. "Your little brother is better off there," Bobby snarled.

"What did my dad do to you?" Dean's brows furrowed as he looked at the disheveled-looking man who had acted as Sam's and Dean's father when they needed him. This version looked a lot more worn down and dispirited than their Bobby had. 

"He's a two-faced son of a bitch. He was interested in finding the thing that killed his wife and son, but when we got jumped, he took off chasing the demon and left me injured to rot. If it wasn't for some kids hiking in the woods two days later, I'd be dead. Next, he got Bill and Ellen Harvelle killed when the demon chased him to the Roadhouse. There's another kid in foster care because of his sorry ass named Jo. So, get off my property."

"Bobby, can I just come in and talk for a few minutes?" Dean asked, looking up at him on the steps.

Bobby looked suspiciously at Castiel. "Who's he and what's his story?"

Castiel responded, "I'm no one important. Just Dean's friend. My name is Clarence."

Bobby gestured them in. He limped his way to the kitchen table. The house was always cluttered, but it was an absolute disaster. Dishes lined every surface. Empty whiskey bottles were everywhere. The house smelled like something had died inside. It had always been homey in Bobby's disorganized way, but the place was a complete ramshackle mess.

Dean muttered, "Bobby, I love what you did to the place."

Bobby growled, "If you don't like it, get out."

"What happened to your leg?" Dean asked.

"A demon happened, boy. Hacked my leg apart with a machete before daddy dearest managed to douse it with holy water. It figured I was dead meat, so it and your supposed old man abandoned me. John never even sent help.," Bobby responded bitterly.

Dean looked apologetic, "I'm sorry, man."

"He got my friend, Rufus Turner, killed too. John Winchester left a trail of damage and carnage behind him wherever he went. He didn't care if Rufus, Bill, Ellen, Pastor Jim, or I died. He just wanted to get the son of a bitch who killed his wife. He's a drunken, abusive ass." Bobby took a long drink of whiskey. "If you are related to him, you're a sorry son of a bitch too."

Dean said tentatively, "It doesn't sound like it's a bad thing that Sam is in foster care then."

"He's far better off there than he'd ever be with that SOB. I'd shoot him myself if Winchester ever came around here again."

"Do you help other hunters?"

Bobby snorted, "With this gimpy leg? No, everyone is out there on their own."

Castiel cleared his throat softly and motioned to the door. Dean said, "I'll leave you alone then. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Bobby just grunted as they head back out to the Impala. Dean looks at Castiel, "What the hell was that?"

Castiel replied, "Dean, you were a stabilizing influence on your father. You were older than Sam. You would give your dad the stink eye when Sam was hungry or you guys needed something, and your dad would try harder. You weren't only Sam's parent, you were also more responsible than your dad. He put a lot on your shoulders, but without you, he just became a… not someone anyone wants to be around."

Dean thought back to his childhood and all the times he had cleaned up his father's messes. He also remembered the times he spent with Bobby at the salvage yard. Before the last bitter disagreement that Bobby had with their father, Sam and he had spent days at a time with Bobby looking out for them. Some of Dean's most pleasant childhood memories was when Bobby took him out to play catch or taught him to work on cars.

Castiel said softly, "Taking care of you and Sam was one of Bobby's joys. He's not overly demonstrative, but he loved the two of you. Without that, he sort of just coasted after his wife's death. Your dad talked him into helping him, and Bobby and his friends played the price."

Dean hung his head sadly. "It didn't seem to help him much at the time. We got him killed."

The corner of Castiel's mouth quirked up in a small smile, "It didn't seem like it at the time, I know, but you and Sam were highlights of your Bobby's life. But we have to move on. On our next stop, you're only going to be able to watch and not talk. The person we are watching is rather… unstable."

Dean felt the ruffle of feathers as Castiel flew them to a catwalk overlooking a warehouse. Castiel whispered, "It's Christmas Eve 2016. The apocalypse hasn't happened yet, because you aren't here to be Michael's vessel. It will be coming soon enough though."

Dean looked at a human tied to a chair below them. His eyes widened as he realized it was Anna Milton. He looked over at Castiel. Castiel just frowned. Anna was tied tightly to the chair.

Another version of Castiel dressed in a dark trench coat entered the room. He pulled off gloves. Dean could see a tremor in his lip, and a cataract in his left eye. In a strange voice, the angel said, "Tell me where the tree that holds your grace is, Anna, or I can strip it out of your memory. It will not feel… pleasant." The angel licked his lips slowly.

Anna replied, "Castiel, this is not you. You rebelled. You were going to help me stop the apocalypse."

The angel growled at her, "I never rebelled. You are insubordinate. Do not confuse your sins with my own."

"Castiel, Naomi wiped your mind. She's injured you. Please, stop this. I am your friend. We had doubts together," Anna begged plaintively. 

His lip twitched as he rasped out, "You will tell me where your grace is, Anna. Or, I will remove it from your mind painfully and slowly."

Dean whispered, "Cas, don't make me watch this. If I can't go help Anna…"

Dean could feel the rustle of Castiel's wings as he moved them into a field with the Impala. 

Castiel said impassively, "My name is Clarence."

"What's wrong with that Castiel?"

"He tried to rebel to thwart the apocalypse when he became aware that the archangels weren't really representing God's will, but rather their own interests. He tried to stop them, but he got caught. To stop him, Naomi had to reprogram him so deeply, he broke. He didn't have you to hang on to. Because of you, Naomi never managed to break your Castiel. God knows they tried."

"Cas is strong. He wouldn't…"

"I'm going to show you a few things from your Castiel's life. Again, you can't talk. Just observe. These are things that happened to him that he's never told you."

The two of them suddenly appeared in a building. A ring of fire surrounded an iteration of Castiel. Lucifer stood outside of it. The other Castiel growled, "You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won't let you."

Lucifer looked at him, "Castiel. I don't understand why you're fighting me, of all the angels."

Castiel glared at him, "You really have to ask?"

"I rebelled, I was cast out. You rebelled, you were cast out. Almost all of Heaven wants to see me dead, and if they succeed, guess what? You're their new public enemy number one. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interests? Which in this case just happen to be mine?" Lucifer smiled at him charmingly.

"I'll die first," Castiel snapped.

Lucifer shrugged, "I suppose you will."

Dean found himself standing in the field next to the Impala again. Castiel said, "He never told you he faced off Lucifer at Carthage, did he?" Dean gulped. He remembered that horrible day in Carthage when Ellen and Jo sacrificed themselves, so they could take a shot at Lucifer with the Colt. Then, they realized that Lucifer couldn't be hurt by the gun. It had been a useless tragedy.

Dean answered with his voice wavering, "No, he just said something about reapers." A wave of nausea started to unfurl in Dean's stomach.

"Let me show you something else," Castiel said.

Dean was suddenly viewing a room full of dead versions of himself. Another Castiel, dressed in the original trench coat, stood there with his angel blade in hand, looking impassively at the floor littered with hundreds of bodies. Naomi in her light grey suit walked up to him, "No hesitation. Quick. Brutal. Everything's back in order. Finally. You're ready." 

Dean found himself back in the field again. Castiel still leaning against Baby. "It took 782 times before he could kill you without hesitating. That many times she drilled in his head, but you still were able to snap him out of it when he faced you in the crypt. What happened without you there to ground him, you saw what he became. Castiel always had too much heart."

Dean glared at him, "You are him."

The angel smiled at him, "No, I'm Clarence. Castiel stood toe-to-toe with Lucifer because of you. He was able to shake off Naomi's mind control because of you. He killed Raphael. He saved the world. He rebelled and fell for you. And he did it, all of it, for you."

"I don't get to take credit for what he did. Any of it. He did it because he's better than all the rest of those dicks."

Castiel said, "Because you gave him a good role model. You taught him about love and free will. Don't sell yourself short, Dean. One last thing for you to see, Dean. This time, it will be Christmas 2005. Ready?" The two of them appeared at a cemetery where an exhausted Sam sat next to a gravestone, a bottle of whiskey in his lap. The name Jessica Moore was etched in the cold marble with the dates January 24, 1984, to November 2, 2005, displayed below. As Sam took another long swig of the whiskey, the form of Jessica coalesced from the mist in the graveyard. She said softly, "Sam? You're dreaming, Sam. That doesn't mean this isn't real."

Sam gasped as he looked at her, "Jess? You're dead."

"I'm not your girlfriend, Sam. I'm an angel."

Sam gulped before answering, "An angel?"

Jessica smiled at him, "My name is Lucifer."

"Sure, naturally. Can you do me a favor, Satan, and remind me to forget drinking when I come out to see Jess?" 

Jessica looked at him earnestly, "I'm here because you are special, Sam. There is no one else like you. You're a vessel, a very powerful vessel. I need to take control of your mind and your body. It will be unpleasant for you, but it is necessary. Don't be afraid. This is your choice. You need to invite me in. "

Sam answered, "Even if this is real, and it's not. But, assuming it was, why the hell would I do something like that?"

She answered, "People call me Satan or the Devil, but do you know my crime? I loved God too much. God betrayed me and punished me. Just like he punished you. How could God stand idly by while your mother, your brother, and your girlfriend were slaughtered? Either he's sadistic or he didn't really care. You're angry. You have every right to be. I'm angry too. That's why I want to find him and hold him accountable for his actions. Just because he created us, doesn't mean he can toy with us."

"If I help you, can you bring back my family?" Sam asked hoarsely. 

"I’m sorry, I can't. But I can do the next best thing, I can bring you justice. Peace. All I need is you. I need you to say yes."

Sam looked at Jessica's gravestone. He stared up at the sky for a long moment. 

Dean yelled, "Stop…"

Castiel interrupted, "He can't hear you Dean. You aren't here. Your father broke in Hell after 10 years, letting Lucifer out. Sam had no one and nothing left so he said yes."

Dean croaked, "Take me home, Cas. I just want to go home now. Please…"

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Dean sat up in the cot, terror filling his soul. 

Castiel said quietly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "It's ok, Dean. It's just a dream. You were having a nightmare."

"Take me home, Clarence. I want to go home," Dean insisted. He finally looked directly at Castiel. Snow littered his hair. A sheen of ice lined the shoulders of his trench coat.

"As soon as the blizzard is over, we'll head back to the car. I was able to walk and get a cell phone signal so I could call your mother and Jack. They're waiting for us to return home before celebrating Christmas. They aren't worried. I know it was important to you that they have a nice Christmas."

Dean swallowed big gulps of air. Sam sat up in the other cot. He said sleepily, "You ok, Dean?"

Dean flung himself out of the cot to hug Sam tightly. "You're ok. You didn't say yes. You're fine." 

Sam's eyes scrunched in confusion at Dean, "Um, yeah, Dean. I'm a little cold, but I'm good."

Dean turned to Castiel, "And you rebelled, you fell, you did it all for me. But they didn't break you. You stood toe-to-toe with Lucifer, Raphael, and Michael, but none of the sons of bitches ever broke you." Dean threw his arms around Castiel and pulled him tight. Castiel looked startled before hugging him back. Sam's phone rang suddenly with the sound of bells. Dean looked wildly around, "Another angel just got its wings."

"Um, Dean, that's just my alarm," Sam responded. "It's six a.m."

"It's Christmas," Dean exclaimed, "Merry Christmas!" He still held Castiel tightly. He looked at Castiel, carefully "And you are Castiel, not Clarence, right?"

Castiel extended two fingers to Dean's forehead. He said to Sam, "It's not a concussion from the Wendigo. I'm not sure what is the cause of his current state of…" Castiel searched for a word, "delusion?"

Dean pushed Castiel to look at him at arm's length. The snow in his hair had started to melt, causing rivulets of water to cascade down his cheeks. He glanced over at Sam who remained sitting on his cot, staring at Dean with his mouth agape. Dean said, "I'm not delusional. I'm just happy. Really happy. Extremely happy. Awesomely, stupendously happy." He pulled Castiel close and started to kiss him. Castiel let out a squeak of surprise and pulled back. Dean said, "I love you, Cas. Always have. Ever since the night in the brothel. You made me laugh so hard, and I realized I was happy you weirded Charity out and didn't have sex with her, you nerdy, dorky little guy."

Sam mouthed, "Brothel?" He stared at Castiel.

Understanding dawned in Castiel's eyes. He reached out to Dean and pulled him closely. He crushed his lips against Dean's, and they started to kiss passionately. 

Sam exclaimed, "Thank God! I don't even have to trick them underneath all the mistletoe I asked Mom and Jack to hang. But, um, guys, I'm still here. I'm glad you finally figured things out, but I don't want to watch it."

Castiel reluctantly pulled away from Dean. "I love you too, Dean. My apologies, Sam, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Dean said, "Merry friggin' Christmas. And a Happy New Year to me."


End file.
